If I Never Say the Words
by Cris
Summary: To destroy the Goblin King is to destroy the Labyrinth. But can Sarah live with the choice she's made in agreeing to trade herself for Toby? Will that choice prove fatal when the Goblin King's power is threatened...by his own people?
1. An Agreement

Sarah hesitated.  The words were on her lips.  She remembered them: she knew them.  They were a part of her, it seemed, whirling round and round her head like a song she couldn't be rid of.  But the pain, the killing pain, in Jareth's eyes stopped her.  He looked like he was dying.  She remembered his words, and the unspoken threat she posed to him. ptyle="mso-spacerun: He hadn't told her any of that; he didn't have to. Destroy him now, and she would destroy the Labyrinth forever.  

"Wait." The word was out of her mouth before she was even conscious that she had made the decision.  "Wait."  A spark lit his mismatched eyes.  "Yes?" He held the crystal, round and cool, out further.  Sarah ignored it, focusing instead on the mismatched crystals of his eyes. "What do you want, Sarah? I offer you your dreams." "I'm not willing to take them at your price."  She looked over at her little brother, sitting quietly on the edge of the platform. Somehow, she knew the Goblin King would not let him fall.  "If I say the words," she said, stepping closer to him without realizing it, "Toby and I go home free and your Labyrinth is no more.  If I don't say the words, he is turned into a goblin, the Labyrinth stays, and I am sent home in disgrace."  There was affirmation in the Goblin King's cold, hard face though no actual nod of recognition. Even still he would not explicitly state that she did indeed hold at least some power in his Labyrinth. "But…is that it? The only two choices?" Sarah swallowed. "You said that you'd done all this for me."  She waved at the platform floating slowly in the mist, at the faint Escher forms she could still see off in the distance.  "What if I don't want either choice?" "Then take the crystal." "I don't trust your crystal," she shot back, her eyes staring up at him.  There were points of light in them, reminiscent of the disguised crystal she had taken from Hoggle and bitten.  The Goblin King almost flinched.  "And I will not trade Toby's freedom for my dreams." The king of the goblins blinked and stared hard at her, as if surprised by her statement. Then, suddenly, he reached out and flicked his gloved fingers at the clock.  Time stopped, the clock ceased its endless ticking away at Sarah's precious seconds. The room grew completely silent, but for the soft sound of Sarah's own breath.  The Goblin King didn't seem to breathe at all. "What do you want, Sarah?" he asked again, except this time it seemed that he was actually interested in hearing her answer.  He sounded…curious.  A little amused, too, maybe, Sarah thought.  She swallowed. She didn't want to break this man or destroy the world he had created here.  But she couldn't doom Toby to a life Underground as a goblin and leave her father with nothing.  She couldn't do that. Feeling like a character in a Disney cartoon and somehow wronged rather than valiant, she looked up at him with resolve in her eyes.  "Would you trade hostages?" she asked.  "Take me instead." Silence once more engulfed them, as the king of the goblins seemed rendered silent. Then, "You would…take his place?" Sarah's eyes were still wary, and she did not seem sure of herself as she spoke. "If I did, would you turn me into a goblin?" "No," Jareth said, reaching out and stroking her hair.  His gloved fingers felt like they were playing with cool, soft water. "No, I wouldn't—couldn't do that to you, Sarah."  His eyes were veiled, but even so Sarah couldn't help but tremble when he touched her. "But I do warn you. I cannot simply take a grown girl like yourself into the Labyrinth.  I would not offer this option to anyone but you, sweet Sarah. If you stay in the Underground, it will be as my queen." Sarah's breath caught, and she stared.  Had she heard him correctly?  He was the Goblin King, her enemy, the evil one, the villain of this story! "This is not a story, Sarah; not a fairy tale world.  There are no clear-cut characters.  I am not the villain, and you are not some wronged heroine.  There are no easy distinctions here in my Labyrinth." "Your queen," Sarah said softly.  "Your wife?" "Yes, Sarah," he said. "My wife.  I cannot bring you here any other way, and I would not have it so even if I could.  _I cannot live within you._" _But then, who wins?_ Sarah demanded of herself.  _Nobody?_

_ Everybody,_ came the reply. 

She glanced sharply up at Jareth, and in his eyes she saw again the loneliness and need she had seen when they danced.  It wasn't tenderness, and it wasn't kindness, but still….  Something stirred within her, and she stared into his eyes. Jareth saw something there that she herself likely didn't realize.  But he closed his hand over the crystal, and in a moment it had become an ornate silver ring with a large, cold diamond glittering like a chip of ice in the center. He held it out to Sarah, and the clock started ticking again.  _You can still say the words,_ Sarah told herself, but she knew it was a lie and the thought didn't reassure her as it was meant to.  There was no turning back now, and she wondered why she didn't feel more regret as, with three seconds of her thirteen hours left, she reached out and took the ring. 

_To be continued..._


	2. "Your New Home"

Nothing happened.  Well, nothing sparkly and mind-blowing like Sarah had expected.  She held the ring in her fingers.  The metal was surprisingly warm.  

"Here, child," Jareth said, not unkindly, and he took the ring and placed it on her finger. The silver was warm and heavy; the ring catching the milky light of the room and making it dance.

"I'm not a child. You said so yourself," Sarah shot back, but her voice still held the dreaminess of when she nearly defied him with the words.  She sounded tired, almost in a trance.

"I said nothing of the sort," Jareth replied.  "I said that you were a grown girl, and that much is undeniably true.  But, sweet Sarah, there are differences between a grown woman and a grown girl.  You are still very much a child."

"Then what do you want with me?" she shot back, the temper of before showing through.

The Goblin King smiled, but it was not a cruel gesture.  "For the astounding woman you will become, of course.  You have more than mere potential, Sarah. You have what it takes to become immortal."

Sarah stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head.  "I don't understand," she said, sounding weary again.

"You will, in time," Jareth assured her with a flippant air that seemed to make light of her present distress.

He was not standing close to her, but still it seemed too close and she could not think. She took a step back, something that did not go unnoticed by the Goblin King.  He allowed it, though, with a slight upturning of his mouth that could be seen as a satisfied smile.  His whole being ached for her, with every breath he took it grew stronger, but he couldn't force her.  Child that she was, he couldn't overwhelm her.  The image of Sarah, her sweet body naked and writhing on his bed, her husky voice calling his name, rushed to his head.  But he had to wait, had to be patient.  If he touched her now, she would merely be frightened out of her mind. Passion would come later. Now he had to build trust. Jareth smiled. This was the hard part of the game, but that was why he chose her.  She would not melt in his arms; she would be a challenge.

But oh, he remembered how she had trembled like a leaf in his arms as they danced, and he remembered her eyes, so clear, so wonderfully hazy though he hadn't touched her skin at all.  The magic dance had made her shake, confused at these new feelings.  That made him both happy and frustrated—pleased that she responded to his touch but frustrated that a simple dance was almost too much for the girl.  How was he to win her over when she turned both wary and trembly at his touch?

"Come," he said, pulling his mind out of its wanderings.  "I will show you to your rooms and give you a chance to bid your brother farewell before I send him back to your father."  

Sarah followed the king of the goblins down the corridors of his castle, wondering just what it was that she had done.  In agreeing to become queen she had saved both Toby and the Labyrinth, but at what price? As much as she wished for a world of make-believe, Jareth frightened her.  He was not an adolescent boy like the ones at her high school, but an immortal man, big and powerful and capable of vast cruelty. She looked at the ring, warm on her finger yet visually made of ice and snow.  They were bound together, now, and it was her own words that had made it so.

"_I would not offer this to anyone else…_" his words mocked her.  Why say such a thing and in the next instant call her a child? 

They stopped in a dim hallway where a single door sat unguarded.  Jareth pushed it open and gestured for Sarah to precede him into the room.

It smelled like him, like magic and mystery, and Sarah knew at once that this was _his_ chamber. A large bed on a low dais dominated the atmosphere.  It was four-posted, tall, and made of something that looked suspiciously like ivory. It was carved all over with intricate designs—leaves, flowers, long fingered hands, and faces that seemed half-bird and half-human.  

To her right was a half-open door.  Through it, Sarah saw tiled floors and the edge of an old-fashioned bathtub with clawed feet. To her left she saw bookcases lining the walls.  Each was filled with hardbacked books, and they seemed to be color-coordinated rather than placed in any particular order.  They melted from red to orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and right back to red. Sarah's gaze flowed over the rich colors, soaking them up with her eyes.  They didn't have color like this Aboveground!

One of the bookcases was tilted ajar, like a secret doorway, and with a glance at Jareth's unreadable face, Sarah stepped further into the bedroom and peered through the bookcase door.

There was a room in there, small but comfortable, with a fireplace and several wide, soft-looking chairs. The walls were, again, lined with bookcases.  Here, stopped in the bookcase-doorway, Sarah smiled.

"I will leave you alone, then," Jareth said from right behind her.  Sarah jumped nearly out of her skin and whirled around. She hadn't heard him crossing the room; he moved as stealthily as a big cat.  Jareth's mouth turned up at the corners, her reaction not lost on him. "There's a bath waiting: go ahead and clean up.  You've had a long day."

Sarah merely stared as he caught her left hand—the one with the diamond—raised it in the air, and bowed to her like a gentleman.  A gentleman! "There is no need to fear me, Sarah," he said quietly, the hauteur still apparent.  "I will not touch you; not until you are ready. I do hold some power over you; you could not say the words.  But I won't abuse it.  It's your heart I'm after."

With that he turned and simply vanished, leaving her alone.  The door swung shut, but there was no click of a lock.  Just to be sure, Sarah went to the door and pulled on the handle. It swung open with a light hiss of well-oiled metal, revealing the dim hallway beyond. Satsified that she was not a prisoner, Sarah closed the door again.

She could pretend that everything was all right, so long as she didn't think about the bigger picture.  "All I have to do is clean up," she told herself out loud.  "I'm not in the middle of the strangest game of my life. I have not just promised my life to the Goblin King. Just have to clean up."

Late afternoon sunlight, rich red-gold, covered everything and made the ivory bed seem to glow richly. Sarah crossed to the bathing room, peered in, and entered.  The floor was flawless tile, deep blue and translucent rather than opaque. The bathtub was pure white edged in silver. She passed a hand over the porcelain lion's head carving on the wall beside the tub.  As her fingers touched it, a stream of water shot out of its mouth, emptying into the bathtub.  The scent of sandalwood accompanied it. 

After hunting in the darkly paneled cupboards, Sarah found several large, plushy hunter-green towels. She took one, and the bar of light brown soap sitting on the shelf.  It looked as if it had never been used, the edges still sharply defined. 

The tub now full of steaming, scented water, the lion-spigot stopped flowing. Hands trembling, Sarah slowly removed her shoes and shirt. Not knowing what else to do and still nervous about being in his—stop!  _an unknown_ bathroom, Sarah showed visible reluctance as she shed the rest of her clothing and stepped into the water.

The temperature was perfect, and she melted as she sank down into the tub.  The heady smell of the sandalwood enveloped her, and Sarah thought she would die happy if she could just stay here forever. She sighed happily and closed her eyes, content to simply soak for a while.  

*****

Jareth paced his throne room, impatiently waiting as the goblins readied the banquet hall for Sarah's first formal appearance.  He could easily have done it with just a wave of his hand, but it was far more fun to have his cronies do it for him. After all, what good was it to have subjects if one did not put them to good use?

His thoughts drifted to Sarah, bathing now in his bathroom. He considered using a crystal to watch her, but then decided against it.  When she appeared before him for real, it would be that much better. Still, his imagination supplied him with how he knew she would look, milky skin slightly reddened by the hot water. Her hair would be a wet, sleek cover slinking over her back, the feminine muscles in her shoulders moving under her skin like silk.  He pictured her long legs first stretched out, then bent so that her knees peeked above the level of the water.  He imagined her eyelashes, beads of water dripping off them like perfect diamonds, and tiny streams of water running down her throat, between her swelling breasts…. Jareth closed his eyes and shook his head, willing the apparition to go away.  Soon, he promised himself.  Soon, he would know for real the feel of her skin, the taste of her, and he would never have to hold back his desire again.  


	3. Silence

When Sarah finally decided to climb out of the water she wrapped the plush towel around her dripping body and searched for her clothes. They were nowhere to be found, but there was a swath of glittering fabric placed over the back of a chair. Sarah reached out and picked it up.

At first glance, Sarah thought it looked like an ice dancer's costume. The top was dark, rich blue and it bled into pure snowy white by the time it hit the skirt.   The skirt itself fell to mid-calf, Sarah guessed, and was full enough to swirl enticingly around the legs. A band of angel-dust sparkles spiraled from the right shoulder across the breasts, around the back, and crossed to the front of the skirt. The entire dress was made of silk, so thin that Sarah couldn't quite believe it wasn't see-through. Yet, on the whole, the effect was understated elegance and not revealing in the slightest.   It looked like a dress fit for a queen.   

Then the enormity of her situation slammed back into her full force as she held the dress, and Sarah began shaking so hard that she couldn't stop. She stared at her own hands, the slender fingers trembling so badly that the silk slipped to the floor in a graceful pile. She grasped the edge of the bathtub with one hand and sank down too, first to her knees and then all the way down, leaning against the cold porcelain.   She stared at the dress, the shining material conveying to her just how big a decision she had made and what it meant.   It meant that she now belonged to the Goblin King, to do with as he wished. She had traded her own freedom for her baby brother's. But Jareth didn't want her as a goblin…he wanted her as a woman. 

Oh, the king of the goblins was beautiful, but she was terrified of him. He had set her the impossible task of solving the Labyrinth and then changed the rules every time it seemed she was winning. She'd come within moments of besting him at his own game…and learned that he beat her in that area too. While he could subject her to every foul and deviant thing his Labyrinth had to offer, in the end she could not speak the words that would destroy him. 

Now that decision had her trapped here, at the whim of the Underground's temperamental and moody ruler. The fact that he had shown her to _his_ rooms was not lost on her. And though she had seen odd moments of tenderness from him in the past several hours, he had mocked her and called her a child more than he had been cordial.   Kind was not a word she would use to describe his behavior. He scared her, and that was the end of it. All her previous bravado was lost, and she was just too tired to try and pull the last shreds of it back to cover her. It was gone. She was lost inside the castle at the center of the Labyrinth, with nobody to call for help. Alone, and at the mercy of the Goblin King. 

*****

Sarah didn't know how long she'd been sitting on the tile floor of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and her hair drying in tangles down her back, but the thing that jerked her back to the outside world was the sound of a door opening. She stared dumbly as a female goblin entered. The goblin sighed and shook her head disgustedly when she saw Sarah sitting there.

"And just what do you think you're doing?   Wrinkling your gown, wearing your towel—what _do_ they teach young girls Aboveground?" 

Sarah took the brisk rebuke without feeling, returning her gaze to the floor. She was about to drift off into her own world again when a sudden, sharp pain made her flinch and whirl around. The woman had taken the opportunity to grab a silver brush and attempt to pull it through Sarah's long dark hair. 

"Ouch!" Sarah said, making a swipe for the brush.   The goblin paid her no mind and batted Sarah's hand away. 

"Can't do it yourself, obviously, so I'll do it for you. Hold still now, and it won't hurt." 

Rousing herself enough to care about the hairbrush was more than Sarah cared to do at the moment, and she sank back into her own mind again as her hair was brushed to a brilliant shine. She hardly noticed as the towel was stripped away and the glittering dress slipped over her head. She felt the slithery silk tighten around her body as it was zipped up the back. She didn't bother to wonder why it was just her size. 

"Come, now, His Majesty's waiting on you," the goblin said. "He doesn't wait long." 

In a daze still, Sarah allowed herself to be led down the corridors until they stopped in front of a pair of double doors.   Two goblin servants opened the doors, and Sarah was bombarded by the sudden flash of silvery light. 

Inside, the room looked remarkably like the ball she vaguely remembered from Jareth's ensorcelled peach. The room was lined with two tables so long that they seemed never to end, and at the end was a raised dais. On the dais was a single, small table with two chairs. One was empty. The other held Jareth.

The people from the dream-ball were there, laughing, flitting around from place to place with their masks still on and their voices creating a tumult that Sarah winced to hear. At her entrance the din slowly ceased, and everyone found their places and slowly stood there, in tribute. Had Sarah been in her right mind, she would have been terrified to walk down that center isle with everyone watching her, whispering behind their hands like they were. But the figure at the other end of the room frightened her so much more that she just didn't care. She was immune to anything else. 

Jareth smiled as she stepped up the three wide, shallow stairs and met him at the top of the dais. "Lovely Sarah," he said, "Welcome to Court. Goblin Court. They will be yours, once you are confirmed as my queen." 

Sarah's eyes slid past him, never focusing on him.   It was as if he didn't really exist in her mind, like he wasn't there at all. Accepting his presence was too much at the moment. Far better to let herself believe that the soft, deep voice she heard was a figment of her own imagination. Better to be crazy and hearing phantoms than…. But there was no _than._ There was nothing to worry about.

Her silence and her refusal to look at him did not go unnoticed by Jareth, but rather than cause a scene in front of the masked nobles, he guided her to a chair and held her elbow gently as she sat.   She stared straight ahead, vacantly.   Jareth felt a prick of worry, suddenly.   There was no challenge in her eyes, no set to her jaw. She was not merely ignoring him as a way of retaliation. There was something else going on, and it worried him. He cast a glance down at the smooth, dark silk of her hair. Her hair was down, her gown plain in comparison with the other noblewomen seated at the lower tables.   Yet she shone the way none of them ever could. Yes, she was a child yet, but that would pass soon enough. Soon enough. 

He convinced himself that she just needed to get her bearings, needed to become accustomed to life here in the castle and the surrounding Labyrinth. Then she would turn to him again. Her eyes would lock with his; there would be speech—and time when talking wasn't necessary.   Jareth cast another glance at her as he seated himself, and anyone who cared to look could see the fierce possessiveness that lit his eyes.

*****

Hoggle stumped through the Labyrinth, ignoring false turns and continuing on his way while muttering to himself. "Damn fool girl…" rose out louder than some of his other words, and he didn't bother to disguise his impatience as he bumbled down a couple of steps and entered the hedge maze. 

"Trouble," he said to the other two dwarves he met there, creatures more human than goblin and yet almost more goblin than human. 

"What is it now?" one of the others asked, throwing a glass marble to a crow. The crow tried to pick it up, flapped angrily, and flew away. 

"Sarah's gone and agreed to marry the king," Hoggle said irritably. 

"The Renegades aren't going to like this," the second dwarf said. 

"Jareth'll have a time of it, trying to protect her," said the first.

"We's gots to warn her, or something," Hoggle insisted. He seemed much more keyed-up than his two compatriots, who were lazily throwing marbles in the dust. 

"No good," the second said. "No dwarves allowed in the castle, you knows that."   

"I doesn't bloody care!"

"Better? Want to be rotting in the Bog of Eternal Stench for eternity? This time, seeing as how he's already got his girl, Jareth won't have such bad aim."   

Hoggle flushed, remembering the most recent time he'd been flung toward the Bog. "Then what does we do?"

"Nothing. The king is smart, or at least paranoid. He'll be watching her. If all you're worried about is the soon-to-be-queen's pretty little head, I wouldn't worry. Jareth's a better watchdog than any."

_TO BE CONTINUED..._


End file.
